I must trip up the rocks. The rain is ever. Let
me catch pleasure on the wing - I may be melancholy to-morrow. Now
all my nerves keep time with the melody of nature. Ah! let me be
happy whilst I can. The tear starts as I think of it. I must flee
from thought, and find refuge from sorrow in a strong imagination -
the only solace for a feeling heart. Phantoms of bliss! ideal forms
of excellence! again enclose me in your magic circle, and wipe clear
from my remembrance the disappointments that reader the sympathy
painful, which experience rather increases than damps, by giving the
indulgence of feeling the sanction of reason.
Once more farewell!
LETTER XI.
I left Portoer, the little haven I mentioned, soon after I finished
my last letter. The sea was rough, and I perceived that our pilot
was right not to venture farther during a hazy night. We had agreed
to pay four dollars for a boat from Helgeraac. I mention the sum,
because they would demand twice as much from a stranger. I was
obliged to pay fifteen for the one I hired at Stromstad. When we
were ready to set out, our boatman offered to return a dollar and
let us go in one of the boats of the place, the pilot who lived
there being better acquainted with the coast. He only demanded a
dollar and a half, which was reasonable. I found him a civil and
rather intelligent man; he was in the American service several
years, during the Revolution.
I soon perceived that an experienced mariner was necessary to guide
us, for we were continually obliged to tack about, to avoid the
rocks, which, scarcely reaching to the surface of the water, could
only be discovered by the breaking of the waves over them.
The view of this wild coast, as we sailed along it, afforded me a
continual subject for meditation. I anticipated the future
improvement of the world, and observed how much man has still to do
to obtain of the earth all it could yield. I even carried my
speculations so far as to advance a million or two of years to the
moment when the earth would perhaps be so perfectly cultivated, and
so completely peopled, as to render it necessary to inhabit every
spot - yes, these bleak shores. Imagination went still farther, and
pictured the state of man when the earth could no longer support
him. Whither was he to flee from universal famine? Do not smile; I
really became distressed for these fellow creatures yet unborn. The
images fastened on me, and the world appeared a vast prison. I was
soon to be in a smaller one - for no other name can I give to Rusoer.
It would be difficult to form an idea of the place, if you have
never seen one of these rocky coasts.
We were a considerable time entering amongst the islands, before we
saw about two hundred houses crowded together under a very high
rock - still higher appearing above. Talk not of Bastilles! To be
born here was to be bastilled by nature - shut out from all that
opens the understanding, or enlarges the heart. Huddled one behind
another, not more than a quarter of the dwellings even had a
prospect of the sea. A few planks formed passages from house to
house, which you must often scale, mounting steps like a ladder to
enter.
The only road across the rocks leads to a habitation sterile enough,
you may suppose, when I tell you that the little earth on the
adjacent ones was carried there by the late inhabitant. A path,
almost impracticable for a horse, goes on to Arendall, still further
to the westward.
I inquired for a walk, and, mounting near two hundred steps made
round a rock, walked up and down for about a hundred yards viewing
the sea, to which I quickly descended by steps that cheated the
declivity. The ocean and these tremendous bulwarks enclosed me on
every side. I felt the confinement, and wished for wings to reach
still loftier cliffs, whose slippery sides no foot was so hardy as
to tread. Yet what was it to see? - only a boundless waste of water-
-not a glimpse of smiling nature - not a patch of lively green to
relieve the aching sight, or vary the objects of meditation.
I felt my breath oppressed, though nothing could be clearer than the
atmosphere. Wandering there alone, I found the solitude desirable;
my mind was stored with ideas, which this new scene associated with
astonishing rapidity. But I shuddered at the thought of receiving
existence, and remaining here, in the solitude of ignorance, till
forced to leave a world of which I had seen so little, for the
character of the inhabitants is as uncultivated, if not as
picturesquely wild, as their abode.
Having no employment but traffic, of which a contraband trade makes
the basis of their profit, the coarsest feelings of honesty are
quickly blunted. You may suppose that I speak in general terms; and
that, with all the disadvantages of nature and circumstances, there
are still some respectable exceptions, the more praiseworthy, as
tricking is a very contagious mental disease, that dries up all the
generous juices of the heart. Nothing genial, in fact, appears
around this place, or within the circle of its rocks. And, now I
recollect, it seems to me that the most genial and humane characters
I have met with in life were most alive to the sentiments inspired
by tranquil country scenes. What, indeed, is to humanise these
beings, who rest shut up (for they seldom even open their windows),
smoking, drinking brandy, and driving bargains? I have been almost
stifled by these smokers.
